The Name of the Game
by franmunier
Summary: A conversation per day, and a meeting every once in a while to discover how common people fall in love. Dramione, Muggle AU with a special ingredient.
1. Chapter 1

**The Name of the Game**

**Summary: **A conversation per day, and a meeting every once in a while to discover how common people fall in love. Dramione, Muggle AU with a special ingredient.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter. The one and only owner is J.K. Rowling.

**AN: **English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any lexical or grammatical mistake I made while writing this. And I do not know much about University system in UK so… poetic licence? ;)

I think this will be on the short side… maybe four or five chapters.

**Rated M:** explicit language and sex

* * *

**Chapter One: Knowing Me, Knowing You**

Hermione Granger laughed as she put her and Ginny's plates in the dishwasher.

"Are you joking?" she said, her round eyes clearly amused. "Because I almost hope you are, you know."

"Absolutely not!" Ginny made a face and took a sip of red wine from her glass. "We all want to know what is he like when he's not scowling at people or when he's not barking like an angry old man on the verge of a third age crisis. I know I do and I'm surely sure that you are too."

Hermione bit her lip and Ginny smiled at her with a pleased expression painted on every freckle and line of her beautiful face.

"Okay," she exhaled as she sat at the table. Ginny's happy grimace grew wider so she immediately raised one hand and eyed her friend to stop whatever stream of thoughts was invading her mind. "But I'll decide when the game is over. I don't want to give him the wrong impression."

"How could you?" Ginny huffed, and Hermione held back a mocking laugh when she saw how red her cheeks were. "Your Instagram profile is so… normal. Pics of London, pics of your lips, which are beautifully plump and pinkish, pics of books! Not a single full selfie or a photo of yourself! Even the name! **thesecrethistory**, come on!"

"I happen to like my name very much, thank you."

With an exaggerate roll of her hazel eyes Ginny mumbled: "You're welcome."

For a couple of seconds, neither of them said a word. The kitchen of their shared flat was silent, except for the metallic sounds of the dishwasher. Hermione's tireless mind tried to balance the pros and cons of Ginny's idea. _On one hand,_ she thought, _the experience could_ _be_ _an enlightening adventure, a funny way to pass my free time, a sort of escape from my comfort zone._

Despite his unpleasant behavior, the man in question wasinevitably physically attractive, and she had a feeling that he owned intellect, something she considered essential in a person.

_On the other hand, it could be a total, memorable disaster. A debacle that could remain tattooed forever in my memory. First, he could not follow me back. Why should he? And second, I wouldn't start a conversation with an almost stranger on Instagram. So… why should he?_

"I'll do it," she said, ignoring her gut telling her that her decision could already be spelled as d-e-b-a-c-l-e. "Fuckity fuck, I'll do it!"

Ginny stood up with a excited cry.

"It'll be fun, Hermione!" She said, putting her hands on her friend's shoulders. "Just consider it as a short holiday from books and uni! What you got to lose?"

"My precious time?"

"You're a very, very, very pain in the arse," Ginny grabbed her bag and then looked at her friend with a raised eyebrow. "Follow him. Tonight. And like some of his pics. He likes to surf, you know?"

"A very British thing to do," Hermione said, sarcastic.

Ginny ignored her. As she watched the time on her phone, she said: "I have to hurry. Harry's waiting for my beating vagina."

"For Goodness sake, Ginny!" Hermione made a disgusted face. "He's my best friend!"

Again, her redhead friend ignored her plea. "I want updates, Granger! I want to know everything about the scowling prince: how much he reads, what kind of girl he likes, how many times a day he wanks off."

Hermione grunted as she walked Ginny to the door. "Go away, you horny witch!"

"Look who's talking, Miss Reverse Cowgirl," Ginny teased before moaning out loud. "_Yes! Yes! Like that! Harder! Grab my tits! Harder!_"

Now scarlet as her blood, Hermione nearly screamed. "You promised! Ginny, you promised you wouldn't bring up that embarrassing moment!"

Ginny smirked as she crossed her arms. "The only embarrassing thing of that moment was seeing my brother's freckled arse when he stood up letting you fall like a potato sack!"

"Oh God," Hermione tried to pull herself together. "We thought we were alone."

"You were and then you were not."

"Go away, you stupid snake!"

Ginny stuck her tongue out and then winked maliciously. "Try to find out if the scowling prince likes wild, hot sex."

"Get out! Out! You're the worst!"

* * *

"Draco," Theo mumbled, hiding his head under the pillow. "It's late, could you please put that bloody phone away."

Draco raised his eyebrows and looked at his drunk excuse of a friend, who was currently trying to vanish into the softness and the perfume of his clean linen. His bare back and shoulders were still tanned from their summer holiday, still a mess of light brown freckles, broader and stronger than they were the day they met for the first at the swimming pool.

"It's my bed, which you are contaminating with your drunken halo, and I can do whatever I want in my bloody bed," he said, shoving Theodore's shoulder. "You're pathetic, by the way."

Theo's groaned came a little muffled. "You're a tosser, by the way."

"Watch your ungrateful mouth. This is my bed and this is my flat, and you're a pesky intruder," Draco reminded him as he clicked on the profile of the person who had previously followed him and liked some of his pictures. A girl, judging by the smile and plump pink lips that welcomed his sight and the manicured hands that were holding a consumed edition of a book called _The Goldfinch_ to her sun-kissed chest. It was a beautiful photo: the bronze hue of the girl's skin was highlighted by the clear blue sea in the background and her laugh seemed genuine and sweet.

Intrigued by the vibes he was getting by the pic, Draco read the caption.

_I had the epiphany that laughter was light, and light was laughter, and that this was the secret of the universe._

He laughed and thought: _finally a caption that has something to do with the pic posted!_

"Why," Theo lifted the pillow, theatrically. He had always been a drama kind of boy. "Why, oh why are you laughing like a complete idiot?"

"Why, oh why are you still awake?" Draco said, his tone bored. He liked the pic and started to type a comment. "People are trying to mind their own business here."

_**Said who?**_ He sent and then he put his phone on the nightstand. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning, but he wasn't as tired as he should have been after the two hour morning swim, an afternoon full of books and notions, and the night at the pub with his friends.

Theo growled as he sat up, pounded headache still present. "Your mother and your father will hear about your rudeness."

"Go to sleep, Theo," Draco said with a smirk. "You're rambling."

Theo opened his mouth to reply but a loud vibration cut him off. "It's your damned phone. I'm done talking with you, dickhead. I need my beauty sleep."

"Good night, babe," Draco giggled, mockingly, and picked up his phone.

_Donna Tartt. Or better: Theodore Decker from The Goldfinch. A good read, if you're interested ;)_

* * *

_**It is, isn't it? I noticed it. It's all over your feed. You should change your name into thegoldfinch ;)**_

"So why don't you follow me back, you rude prick," Hermione rolled her eyes, annoyed. She typed, wanting to end the conversation as soon as possible. Bad idea, listening to Ginny and following her mad plan.

_Sure, just because you suggested it, _she sent and then she throw her phone somewhere in her bed.

During the next ten minutes, she tried to fall asleep but her mind was too busy overanalyzing the situation she was now in.

_Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad idea. _

It was the soft sound of her phone that put a stop to her stream of thoughts. Narrowing her eyes she looked at the screen where a notification greeted her: _**dracolmalfoy**__ started following you!_ When she opened Instagram she found a dm request.

_**Good morning, thegoldfinch! I'm Draco, btw ;)**_

_**And you are?**_

"Oh shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!" Hermione let out a little frustrated cry. She only wanted to sleep. "Now he wants to talk? Isn't he tired?"

_Not thegoldfinch… yet!_

_I'm Hermione. Nice to meet you, Draco_

_**Still awake? Aren't goldfinches diurnal animals? Or did I fail my bio test?**_

_Aha very funny!_

_**Hermione, strange name…**_

_**you live in London, I presume? Your pics are beautiful, you know**_

"Ok, Draco Malfoy," Hermione said, arching her brows and biting her lip. "What game are you playing?"

_I know, yeah. _She typed as she laid on her mattress. _I like to capture everlasting memories of this chaotic but wonderful city_

_**You're good… really, really good at it**_

_Thanks? _

_**And are you a student? Your bio says you are**_

_I am. __I study Medicine at Barts. _

_**Really? Me too!**_

_I know… I see you often, you know… _

"God, this is so embarrassing, Hermione!" She took the sparing pillow and put it on her face, moaning stubbornly into it. "Those three full stops: totally, extremely embarrassing!"

_**Seriously?! Next time you see me say hi**_

_Sure… _

_**I'm serious**_

_So am I!_

_**Bossy little thing**_

_And when did we get so familiar?_

_**You're no fun**_

_I'm sure I am. Not with you, clearly_

_**My dream girl: bossy and funny.**_

_**What's your surname, goldfinch? **_

_**I need to know... for research**_

_Ok, maybe you're not the angry old man everyone says you are_

_**I'M NOT OLD! **_

_I can already read the papers: ANGRY OLD MAN YELLS AT A CLOUD_

_**The surname, goldfinch**_

_Bossy little thing you are_

_**You're a fucking parrot!**_

_Language..._

_**Surname, goldfinch**_

_Okay… Ok… It's Granger. Hermione Granger, a year ahead of you._

* * *

"Granger?" Draco whispered tasting the sound of the word on his tongue. He tried to give that name a face but his mind was blank.

Theo was snoring loudly, with one side of his face against the white sheet and his lips pouty. The sight of him made Draco realise that he should be asleep at that time of the morning. But it seemed Granger had others plan for him.

_Do you like to read? I know you're going to be a doctor, but… _

_Well…_

_Do you like to read?_

He wanted to see her face, not because he wanted to know if she was pretty as he thought, but because he hated the idea of not knowing something. That feeling had always eaten him alive and he couldn't stand it.

_**Of course! But I don't have much time to do it**_

_That's a pity_

_**But I'm a sort of cinephile. At my parents' I have an enormous collection of films**_

_That's great and fascinating_

_**Do you like cinema? **_

_Don't you know? I've always dreamed to walk the red carpet at Cannes Festival!_

_Hair done, a wonderful dress and a pair of vertiginous heels on, the wind of the French Riviera that brushes my skin… _

_OF COURSE I LIKE CINEMA!_

_**I'm sure you'd be a great fucking actress**_

_No, I don't think so. I would be the nightmare of the directors _

_I'm a bossy little thing, after all_

_**Yes… Yes you are**_

_God! It's late! And tomorrow I have to face my parents and a party… Though I'd prefer a walk through the moor to the latter… _

_**You don't really mean it. It's the tiredness. **_

_**The same for me: parents and party. Though I prefer the latter.**_

_I'll think of you, then. _

_**Really? Wish I could already picture your face and replace my father's with yours **_

_Flattering. Seriously!_

_**My father's doesn't have those lips…**_

_**Which are wow, btw**_

_Don't think of them too much. They're private property_

_**Fuck! How am I going to survive, now?**_

* * *

Draco Malfoy was actually a funny guy and the idea of it was fire to the gasoline of her adrenaline. And she liked talking with him, flirting with him. She was good at it, talking and flirting. She liked it, sometimes she searched it, craved it. It was good and simple for her. And, evidently, for him too.

So she lighted the lights and sent him a selfie. A simple, innocent selfie where she smiled a little shyly.

His reply made her smile even more and more.

_**Forget private property. It's bullshit. Remember Marx? Bullshit **_

_**Bossy pretty little thing you are ;)**_

_I've always painted you as the epitome of Capitalism_

_**FORGET PRIVATE PROPERTY**_

_Maybe one day_

_**Good girl**_

Sighing, she look at the hour and yawned. It was time to sleep, for real.

_It's time to go to bed :( _

_**Oh no, Granger don't be sad **_

_I'm a valley of tears!_

_**You're joking?**_

_Of course… but I'm very very tired. Rough day yesterday_

_**Don't worry, goldfinch. I need to sleep too**_

_Good boy_

_**Good night then ;) see you around (and say hi next time!)**_

_Night Draco :*_

* * *

"I really, really hope that thing down there is not what I think it is," Theo's mocking tone was the annoying sound that woke him up the next morning.

Draco grunted and brusquely moved to lay on his stomach but the rough movement made him flinch. "Fuck! Ouch!"

"A fucking epic erection you have down there, mate."

"Theo, for pity's sake get out of my fucking room before I decide to use your fucking ugly and useless face to clean the toilet!"

"RUDE!" Theo laughed and literally run to the living room, closing the door with a loud bang.

Draco rubbed his eyes and sighed, completely aware of the _fucking epic erection_ that was standing high and proud and ready to welcome the new day.

"Fucking lips and fucking Granger," he groaned as he quickly thought how to solve his problem without picturing her. But when his hand reached inside his boxer shorts all his good intentions vanished. He stroked the length of his cock, closing his eyes as he tried to remember his dream.

"Fuck," he groaned, and the sound seemed to roar in the silent room.

He was a fucking excuse of a man.

* * *

Hi, lovelies!

hope you decide to follow me in this adventure. I would be very very happy!

Have a good day!

franmunier


	2. Chapter 2

**The Name of the Game**

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter. The one and only owner is J.K. Rowling.

**AN: **English is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any lexical or grammatical mistake I made while writing this. I'll correct them when I have time to reread everything. I promise.

The story is **rated M** because it contains sex and profanities.

I hope you like it! And thank you for reading!

* * *

**Chapter Two: Goodness Gracious**

Despite the fact that she had spent every second of the day trying to ignore her phone in case she had to read another word from Draco Malfoy, Hermione felt strangely pleased when she opened Instagram and found his message.

_**My father has awful thin lips. Thanks God I inherited mine from my mother. **_

_**Ready for your party? x **_

The reminder of Pansy Parkinson's party made her make a resigned face. She took her mug of afternoon tea and went to sit on her sofa.

_I can't wait for it. Really._

_**Stop being unfunny. You're a party pooper ): **_

_I'm serious! Can't wait to drink my usual two Old Fashioned! _

_I'm going to be the life of the party!_

_**R u drunk? aha**_

Hermione laughed, amused. She mouthed _not yet _as she typed and sent the message to him.

_**Drink responsibly**_

_Yes, daddy_

_**Goldfinch… **_

_?_

_**Nothing… **_

_**I have to go. Big party tonight. Need to shower and stuff…**_

_Stuff?_

_**Stuff**_

_And who's being unfunny now? _

"Damn it!" Hermione's eyes got big when she realized she was pouting like a little girl. "Maybe he's not into this kind of things."

True, she had told Ginny that giving him the wrong idea wasn't exactly her plan, but flirting with him came too easy. Too natural. Too right. And he was also good-looking, funny to talk with, and witty.

What did she have to lose? Beside her precious time, obviously.

_**I'm a twenty-two years old boy… what do you think?**_

_Don't know… _

_**You're such a good girl**_

_You wish_

_**Not so good then**_

_Have to go too. Big party tonight. Need to shower and stuff…_

_**You're the worst parrot of the world**_

_Maybe I'll think of you_

"Ginny would be proud of me," she smirked as she rubbed her thighs together trying to find some relief. His enigmatic words and her relentless fantasy weren't exactly helping her.

_**When did we get so familiar? ;)**_

_Don't know. But it's funny and easy to flirt with you. It's like… we've known each other forever, you know?_

_You're a prick, but an amusing one._

Honest. And liberating. A good reply.

_**Thanks. I've never been called an amusing prick. **_

_**A selfish and pig-headed one? Tons of time. But amusing? Nope. Never.**_

_There's a first time for everything :*_

_**Exactly. Need to go now… For real…**_

_Will you think of me?_

* * *

_**I did.**_

Draco sent the message an hour later, slumping back onto his bed, naked except for the towel that was wrapped loosely around his waist. He pressed the palms of his hands to his face and sighed.

_Darn it! I'm fucked._

* * *

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Pansy Parkinson certainly knew how to throw a party. The histrionic lights, the perfect theme music, the guests and, of course, the drinks: it was all in her DNA. She had her own rétro style, Parisian shades in her hair and in her clothes, an out of control love for the roaring twenties and sparkling champagne, and a secret – well, not so secret, given the theme of the current party – passion for ABBA.

"I love it," Ron said, already happily inebriated, as he joined his friend on one of the several sofas in the giant living room. He sank into the cushions with a loud groan. "Best party ever!"

Harry looked around and nodded, taking a sip of his beer. The room was cluttered, noisily alive. People were dancing and screaming the lyrics of the song that was playing without a care. In the air lingered a very unusual carelessness, as if the world, behind Parkinson's walls, didn't exist.

"Very relaxing," he said, smiling at his friend.

"You're pissed," Ginny laughed, shaking her head at Harry's words. She pointed her finger to Harry and Ron and said: "Both of you."

"Totally smashed," Hermione nodded, standing up. Her head spun a little, her legs trembled lightly, but she was feeling good and… thirsty. "I'm going to get a glass of water. My throat is like sandpaper."

Ginny winked as she put her head on Harry's shoulder. "See you later."

* * *

_**How's your party going? **_

"Am I really that boring to talk to?" Pansy rolled her eyes, crossing her arms quite drily.

Draco put his phone in the front pocket of his jeans and raised an eyebrow, questioningly. "What? You're ok? I know that the breakup with Finne–"

Pansy raised her hand to shut him up. She closed her eyes and massaged the bridge of her cute upturned nose and her temples.

"I don't give a fig about that cheating dipstick son of a bitch!" she said, and then she took a large sip of her Margarita. A shiver ran through her spine and her emerald eyes seemed to grow bigger than usual. "I'm talking to you, idiot! And you're not even trying to pretend you're listening to my words."

"Easy there, Pans," Draco mumbled as he touched his chest, right where his heart was supposed to beat. "You're murdering my feelings."

"I don't care about your feelings since you obviously don't care about mine," Pansy replied sharply, and Draco knew she was playing a role. Pansy wasn't the kind of person who publicly expressed emotions: she was priceless, dark glass bottle in which dozens of feelings flapped their wings like monarch butterflies. She was beautiful, strong and unbreakable outside, but fragile and always ready to explode on the inside. "Which are non-existent, by the way."

Draco lift her lips in a mocking smile and took Pansy in his arms, ignoring her protests.

"He's a fucking excuse of a man, Pans," he said, kissing her forehead reassuringly. His phone buzzed, but he decided to ignore it. Pansy was more important than a message. "You deserve a person who will stick by your side even when you're acting like a bloody emotionless Ice Queen, someone who will understand how much love you put into everything you do and how much you care for the people you love, someone who will notice that, most of the time, your actions speak louder that your embarrassing confessions of love and friendship."

"I know," she muttered, after a couple of seconds of complete silence, trying to hide a sniff against the fabric of his blue jumper, but the little sounds that came from her mouth betrayed her state. She was breathing hard, something she usually did whenever she was controlling her emotions. Crying at her own party was forbidden. "I know it."

"That's my girl!" he laughed, lifting her face. Her eyes were a little watery and her lips a bit red from her gnawing, but, all things considered, she was still socially presentable.

Pansy rolled her eyes, but a ghost of a smile lifted her ruby lips.

"I don't know how you do it," she sighed, brushing his forehead and the fine strands of his pale hair with her fingers. She was looking at him with a brotherly tenderness in her eyes, the only visible evidence that proved that Pansy was capable of feeling something. "You're a walking talking plaster, always by my side to take care of my wounds."

"God, Pans," he chuckled, and a cute dimple appeared on his left cheek. "You're really the worst with words!"

"I'm the Nobel Price of our generation, Draco Malfoy," she replied, shrugging. Then she gave him a look and Draco instantly knew he was trapped. "However, I know you've been texting with someone, because it's written all over your fucking gorgeous face. And, since you're not somewhere doing someone, I presume this person is quite intriguing and worthy of your precious time. Am I right?"

"Yeah," Draco exhaled, with a nod. He put his head on the back of the sofa and looked at the ceiling, pondering what to say to his best friend. "She followed me on Instagram yesterday. I wrote to her, and she replied. We texted. And erm... we flirted. I think we flirted a lot."

"Fuck, Draco," Pansy burst out laughing, and some of her Margarita spilled on the sofa. "You're blushing! What else did you do? No, don't tell me. I know you too well! Damn! This is… Draco!"

"Are you done?" he asked, frowning like a child. Yes, what he did was not the type of thing a gentleman should normally do, but, even now, his mind and his damned penis were out of control.

As she put her almost empty glass on the table in front of the sofa they were seated, Pansy tried to compose herself. "Ok, I'm done. Do you know her?"

A shrug. "Yes and no. I have never met her, but she studies Medicine at Barts. And now that I know how her fac–"

He was suddenly interrupted by his phone. Multiple times.

"Maybe it's her," Pansy lifted her manicured eyebrow maliciously.

"Hate you, Pans."

_Good Old-Fashioned and good music. It's… I'm having fun._

_I forgot to ask you about your party! How's it going? _

_I don't know why, maybe it's the alcohol, but I can't stop _

_thinking about _

_you_

_Sorry, wobbly fingers!_

_And about what you could have thought before_

"Wow," Pansy said, seriously amazed. She had previously put her chin on Draco's shoulder and currently she was reading their conversation with no shame. "I like her. She's hot. Wonderfully hot."

Draco shook his head and shot Pansy a curious glare, although still surprised by Granger's frankness. "You have never met her!"

"A woman who drinks whisky is hot," Pansy bit her lips, in thought. "No matter her looks." Then she stood and held her hand out, moving her fingers in an authoritative gesture. "Let me see a pic, maybe I've already seen her."

"I don't think so, but, well, here you go."

Pansy took his phone, showing him a winning smile, a smile that immediately faded when she looked at the selfie Hermione sent him the night before.

"She's here! At my party!" Pansy let out a deafening screech. "I know her. Well, not personally, but she's considerably famous among her friends. And Seamus," she said her ex's name venomously. "He's friend with her and her group so at the time I thought it was kind to invite them all, you know."

_She's here. At Pansy's bloody party, _he told himself as he tried to follow Pansy's speech.

A little dazed, he looked at his friend and said: "She's really here?"

"Of course, Draco," Pansy huffed with a roll of her eyes as she shook her head. "I think she's wearing a suit, sans the jacket. I remember this particular because I am super sure that the style screams Stella McCartney."

Draco made a face, furrowing his forehead. "And what makes you say that? Suits are all the same."

A threating gaze from Pansy shut him up. Again.

"You're a shame, Draco Malfoy."

He laughed as he typed a reply to Hermione's messages. "Thanks, Pans. Always so kind."

_**I'm having fun**_

"No, seriously," she said, pointing a finger at his amused face. "You're a shame. All that chlorine you drink when you swim… it's deteriorating your brain. Your mother will hear about your ignorance."

_**I thought about your lips, ninny. They're always in my head.**_

"Look! Look at your face!" he heard Pansy complaining. "Completely and eternally deteriorated, that brain."

_**A little bird told me that you're at Pansy Parkinson's party. The same party I'm attending.**_

"And why are you smiling like a cat who got the mouse?"

"I told her that maybe we are at the same fabulous party," he replied, a happy grimace on his face.

_WHAT? SERIOUSLY?_

_**Want to meet?**_

_You only want to see my lips_

_**What if I do?**_

_Where r you?_

_**Dining room. Second floor. You?**_

_Living room. I think… third floor? _

_**See you in five minutes outside the living room. Wait there :***_

_Ok_

When he looked up from his phone he saw that Pansy was rubbing her face, hiding her pleased expression and her little laughs.

"Please, remember to practice safe sex," she scolded him motherly, but her fake façade lasted just a couple of seconds before she burst out laughing. "My little Draco, he's grown up so fast."

"I hate you, you know?" he clicked his tongue, and then he bowed to give her a peck on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, Pans."

* * *

_I'm meeting Malfoy in five minutes. _

_Right now, I could fuck him like there's no tomorrow._

Ginny's reply came faster than an unexpected storm.

**WHAT?! **

**Hermione you're the worst!**

**AHA **

**And to think you didn't want to give him the wrong impression…**

_I know, okay? I fucking know. _

_But… It's the hormones and the alcohol. _

_And the fact that I like talking to him via dm. _

_And the fact that he's attractive._

_It's stupid, isn't it? _

_I know it is!_

**HERMIONE **

**CALM**

**DOWN**

**PLEASE**

**It's just a guy… You've done it before. A couple of times!**

**At least this time you know his name ;) You will save yourself the weirdness of not remembering his name tomorrow morning.**

_You're right. I'm overthinking, as usual._

_I'm going to enjoy the moment. _

**I won't wait for you, then?**

_No…_

_I mean, I think not. I'll text you in case of a change of plans._

**Have fun! And tell him to grab your tits :***

_I HATE YOU!_

_Fuck, he's here. _

**RIDE HIM! **

_GINNY! STOP PLEASE!_

* * *

When Draco arrived in the hallway that lead to the living room on the third floor of Pansy's house, he saw her. She was smiling, and her cheeks were a little flushed. She was typing something, but when she heard the sound of his footsteps approaching she lifted her head and timidly waved at him.

"Hello," he said, when he reached her outside the noisy living room.

Hermione put her phone in her purse and cleared her throat. "Hi."

There was a moment of awkward silence, a moment in which both of them looked around for an escape, but then their eyes found each other and they burst out laughing.

"This is awkward," Hermione said, moments later, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

"Well," he bit his lower lip, trying to hold back a grin. "It's awkward because we know we did something bad."

"Ok," Hermione chuckled. "You're right. Completely."

He leaned forward and with his finger he touched the bridge of her little pinched nose. She raised her eyes, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He was nearer, and she asked herself how it was possible since she hadn't seen him move.

"I'm always right," he said, his voice deep and soothing.

She lifted her chin, causing his finger to slip down until it reached her upper lip, and then she murmured: "So sure of yourself."

He pulled away, putting his hands in his pockets. With a nod, he pointed at the stairs. "Want to take a stroll?"

Hermione glanced over at him, her lips pursed in thought. He was towering over her, but, somehow, she felt protected rather than intimidated.

"Let me grab my jacket," she said, winking at him.

* * *

The late august air was warm and South Bank walk along the Thames was still filled with couples and young people, despite the late hour: the clock of the Clock Tower read 00.30 am.

"And where do you normally go?" she asked curiously when he mentioned surfing.

Draco shrugged. "Portugal, in spring and autumn. Or West Crete, in summer. I tried twice here in England but it's not exactly the same. I prefer Portugal, if I'm honest."

"Why?"

"Well, because surfing in Nazaré is absolutely the best. It's wild and a bit reckless, riding those waves," he said, smiling at the memories. "And when the salty air and the water hit your face, _goldfinch_," he sighed and Hermione held back a smile at her nickname. "Everything makes sense, you know what I mean?"

_Not exactly,_ she thought.

"Sure," she said instead, not wanting to ruin his juvenile mood, which she found alarmingly cute.

"Swimming is fun, but surfing," he took her hand and started playing with her fingers, not for the first time that night. "Surfing is liberating. I am myself wh–"

To Draco's surprise, Hermione's answer to his words was a kiss, a mind-blowing kiss that immediately shut him up. Her fingers gripped his hair, in a way that he considered rather erotic, and when he moved his lips to welcome her tongue, she invaded his mouth giving him exactly what he didn't know and think he needed. He eagerly kissed her back, his hands lost somewhere in her hair and his mind and his mouth exactly where he wanted them to be.

It was when she let out a breathy moan that he remembered where they were, out among the people who certainly didn't have the desire to see them dry humping each other. Caressing her neck, he pulled her head back and then murmured, lips provocatively close to the shell of her ear: "The things I would like to do to you."

She eyed him for a minute before pecking him on the lips.

"Come home with me, will you?" she asked, fighting a smirk.

"Take me wherever you fucking want," he closed his eyes, and then bowed to kiss her again.

* * *

Hermione squirmed out of his embrace, laughing at him when he pursed his lips in a cute pout, and rolled out of her bed to close her bedroom door. Once the door was closed, she spun on her toes and put her index on her lips as she made her way back through the mess of trousers, jumper, socks and jacket that was littered on the floor.

"Really?" Draco rose an eyebrow, eyes never leaving her as she jumped on the bed. "Didn't you say your housemate was out?"

With a roll of her eyes, she climbed in his lap. "Yes, but the walls are thin and we live in a terrace house."

"And," he wondered, pulling her blouse up and brushing her smooth skin with his fingertips in lazy circles. "This means I won't hear you? What a pity."

"That's what you think," she teased grinding against him, and he felt his dick twitch.

"Fuck, you're drenched," he breathed when he felt the wetness of her sex soaking his boxer shorts and the sensitive skin of his penis. He grabbed her arse, surprising her, and held her closer.

"What do you want?" she panted against his lips, rubbing her thumb against his lower one. "Because I'm already closer than I have even been and I'm seconds from coming in my fucking useless thong."

That confession stole him a laugh and gave him the courage to finally touch her. Really touch her. His fingers gently stroked her covered clit and then he lifted her up until her sex was centimetres away from his mouth.

She started to struggle, a little embarrassed, but when the warmth of his tongue set her burning clit on fire she let out a loud, heart-felt moan and quivered as her orgasm took her breathe away.

"Goodness gracious," she whimpered a minute later, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards. Her trembling hands yanked a strand of Draco's sweaty blond hair and she heard, or better, she felt him laughing out loud against her sex. "Malfoy, stop it now or I'll beat you."

He hummed against her clit and playfully shoved her on her back. Without wasting their precious time, he took off his underwear and her drenched thong, and quickly kissed her.

"Wait a sec," he said, almost painfully. He got up and went searching for something in his wallet. "My two beloved mothers always say that I should practice safe sex."

Hermione removed her white blouse and gave him a quizzical look. "Are you feeling well? Two mothers?"

He smirked as he opened the condom. "Long story. I've got better things to do now."

"What a coincidence!" she laughed. "So do I."

"What are you doing?" he asked when he noticed that she was on her knees, with her arms crossed and an impatient expression on her flushed face.

"Hurry up, Malfoy," she exhaled, licking her lips. "I want to be on top."

"Bossy little thing," he grumbled once he was under her, his hands on her hips and his dark grey eyes fixed on her pretty face. She bowed to sensually lick his swollen upper lip and, with a little help from her hand, she angled the tip of his dick against her entrance and finally – _finally_ – he slid inside of her. Both opened their mouth in a silent scream, fulfilment painted on every line of their faces and in their dilated pupils. She shifted in his lap and her clit grazed his pubic bone. Draco lifted his head and took a nipple in his mouth and started to play with it with his warm tongue, imitating the movements of their sexes. She breathed a stream of _yes, yes, yes_ that stroked both of their egos.

"God," she gasped, searching for his grey eyes. "Yes."

"Are you close?" he asked breathlessly. The feeling of her warm quim was making him crazy, to the point that he was starting to see black spots before even coming. He had always loved the warmth of a female but, damn, Granger certainly knew how to fuck his head, other that his throbbing dick. The feeling of her, her perfume – fresh like a Mediterranean summer breeze, her trembling pink lips, her dark eyes, the way she was soundly moaning her pleasure. Everything was unique.

"Fuck," he bit his lip. "I'm close."

"Me too," she nodded before kissing him with enthusiasm. Against his mouth she pleaded him to grab her tits.

_Yes, yes, yes, _she moaned as she rode him roughly.

_God, yes, yes, _she whined as he drove into her, hard and fast and savagely out of control.

He came, letting out a loud grunt, seconds before her, and let himself fall on the mattress. Hermione followed him and buried her face in the crook of his sweaty neck, and sighed a satisfied sigh when she felt his fingers slowly caressing her spine.

After ten minutes of comfortable silence, he started to laugh against her cheek.

"I think you woke up the entire neighbourhood with those piercing cries of pleasure, my little goldfinch," he said, biting her ear lobe.

Her only answer was a small bite on his shoulder.

* * *

High-pitched screams of evident pleasure woke them up the next morning.

"What the f-fuck?" Draco grumbled against her back, tightening his grip around her waist.

Hermione opened her eyes slowly, still sleepy and groggy. "W-what?"

_"Fuck yeah, Harry! Fuck me! Fuh- uhn ah, ah, ah! Oh, fuck yes!"_

Draco inhaled, now completely awake. He kissed the nape of her neck first and then he put his forehead against her shoulder blades, shaking his head.

"Does she know you're home?" he asked, mockingly.

She opened her mouth to reply, but another stream of profanities, moans and groans hushed her.

"Usually, she is quieter," she said, rolling on her side to face him. "Don't mind them." She let her gaze flick over him, unconsciously impressing all his peculiarities: from the moles on his left cheek, the one right above his upper lip, the particular shape of his eyes that reminded her of an oriental cat, or the cute little dimple that appeared on his cheek when he smirked or smiled. From the broadness of his shoulders to the firmness of his muscles and abs.

"Then tell me something, because they're quite disturbing," he said to her, fighting an amused grin. "Tell me why The Goldfinch is your favourite book."

Closing the distance between them, Hermione gave him a laughing kiss and then she put her head on his chest.

"I don't know how you know it, since we've known each other for only a couple of days, but okay," she sighed, secretly happy he had asked her to talk about that book. "Brace yourself, then."

* * *

_**an: **__I want to thank all you lovely people for giving me a chance in the form of a follow, a favourite or a review (thanks to guest who reviewed last chapter, btw! It was a short "nice" but I appreciated it a lot!)_

_I know it's a simple and maybe stupid story, and sincerely it's not written in my usual style, but writing it puts a smile on my face. Hope you're enjoying it half as much as I do. _

_Opinions are always appreciated, if you want to leave a review._

_Have a nice day/night wherever you are!_

_franmunier_


	3. Chapter 3

**The Name of the Game**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter, unfortunately.

**An:** I'm sorry for the mistakes, as always.

Hope you like this chapter! And thank you for reading ;)

* * *

**Chapter Three: A Nice, Whole Bowl of Cocoa Krispies**

There was a quietness unheard in the room, a peaceful feeling that lingered like a soft breath of air. It was in the sliver of morning sunshine, light and pleasantly warm, that brushed in a soft kiss their intertwined limbs and in the relaxed way his arm was wrapped around her waist; in the gentle grip of her hand on his forearm, but also in the elegant curve of her hip and in every visible line of his fit abdomen.

They had been lying naked in bed for hours, face to face, the white bed sheets entangled at the end of the bed, talking and talking and talking and kissing – playful pecks on lips and nips on the neck between a _I've always loved baking_ and a _I think my favourite film is Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, tilting her head to look at him.

"I'm a little a scared of finding your friends in the fridge," Draco joked, moving closer to her to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I'd rather starve."

Her brown gaze fell on his blond head, the ghost of a malicious smirk pulling at the corner of her pinkish lips.

"I'd prefer to keep having the chance to fuck you properly," she admitted, stroking his hair. He groaned, rubbing his face on her skin, and she chuckled. "Seriously, are you hungry?"

"Honestly? Yes," he said, as his left hand stroked the curve of her backside, fingers playing dangerously near her erogenous zones. "And physically speaking? A lot."

Hermione hummed, closing her eyes and biting her lip when one of his daring fingers slid against her entrance. She tightened her grip on his hair, thinking she couldn't thank Ginny's crazy mind more than she was doing in that exact moment.

"I'd like to eat a nice, whole bowl of cereal," she said, with a breathless sigh.

He lifted his head and furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

"Cocoa Krispies?"

She let her head fall on her pillow, wavy chocolate hair surrounding her like a halo. "Jesus, Malfoy," she laughed, caressing his pouty lips with trembling fingers. "Cocoa Krispies? Ew… They are the worst! They get soaked as soon as you pour them."

"What did you just say?"

He looked at her for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face, and she thought that maybe – maybe – that was the end of their day together. _Extremely childish of him_, she said to herself, but then he was on her, kissing the life out of her lips, biting and licking them slowly. And then her hands were cupping his face just to hold him closer, fingertips playing with his short hair, and her leg wrapped around his waist.

"Breakfast can wait," she muttered, fighting a moan as her sex brushed up against his strong thigh.

"Turn around and get that belly down," he said, panting, his throbbing dick hard and hot and ready against her inner thigh. "And keep quiet."

"Do you really think they deserve my silence?" she asked indignantly. "After all that noise?!"

Draco gave her a gentle shove to roll her down and adjusted himself behind her. Biting the crook of her neck, he murmured: "So vengeful."

The feel of his hands gently massaging her butt and the hardness of his length between her arse cheeks nearly made her whimper. The walls of her vagina were beating spasmodically, silently praying for fullness, and her belly was on fire. Never, in her short life, had she felt so needy and sexually excited. Yes, she had had her fair share of satisfying trysts, and her fair share of self-made orgasms, but there was a connection, a thread of immediate understanding between their bodies and minds, that left her speechless – and maniacally curious.

Writhing against him she said, groaning softly, "What about what your two mothers say? Be a good boy, Malfoy."

To answer her question he shifted, and she let out a broken scream when his crotch touched her beating sex. She heard him breathing heavily as his hands gripped her butt tighter.

"Just a moment," he panted as he moved to let the tip of his length brush her sex in circular motions. "This is heaven."

"You talk like you've never had sex," she laughed, mockingly.

"You know nothing, ninny."

"I know a thing or two about sex, thank you very much."

"I'm going to shut your beak, goldfinch," he promised her as he stood to retrieve a condom. "You bossy little thing."

* * *

"You know," Ginny said in an amused voice, startling her. "Malfoy must have a magical dick, considering your loud moans and high-pitched little screams."

Hermione closed the fridge, put the orange juice and jam on the table and then turned to glare at her redhead friend. "Oh dear, you're one to talk. It was so embarrassing waking up to your… God, I can't even find the words to describe it!"

Ginny fluttered her eyelashes, feigning innocence. Then she sat on her usual sit and took a bite of toasted bread her housemate had made before.

"In my defence, I can say that I thought you were at his place, because it's what you usually do whenever you decide to let your fanny be, well, funny," she said, leaning back in her chair. "And that I was still a little drunk."

"At seven thirty in the morning?" Hermione eyed her sceptically.

"Okay," Ginny grumbled, with a roll of her eyes. "I wasn't drunk. But, really, I thought you weren't at home."

"I forgive all your sins, Miss Weasley," Hermione said, as she spread some butter on her toast.

Ginny touched her heart and then asked, curiously: "You got nothing to say?"

"Other than I think he's already home safe and sound?" Hermione raised an eyebrow, grimacing. "No."

"Oh, come on!" Her friend snorted. "You're rude. And ungrateful!"

Hermione crossed her arms and chuckled, as she leaned back in her seat. "And why would I be?"

"Because," Ginny almost screamed, but then she lowered her voice, remembering Harry was still sleeping in her room. "Because it's because of me that now you're fucking Draco Malfoy."

"Thank you very much, then," Hermione said, eyeing her nails. "And for your information: _fucked_, past tense. I don't think this… thing between us will continue."

"How so?"

"Because that's just how it is, isn't it?" Hermione mumbled, looking anywhere but Ginny. She felt her eyes stinging with frustration, so she quickly pinched the bridge of her nose to conceal her current state.

_God, one night of mind-blowing sex – and incredibly satisfying conversations – and_ _I'm already here drowning myself with overthinking._

Ginny remained silent, but Hermione could feel her hazel eyes on her. She knew her friend was trying to decipher her expression and the tone of her voice. After several minutes of silence, Ginny talked.

"Do you like him?" she asked, in an earnest whisper.

"Of course, I like him, Ginny!" Hermione let out an exasperated sigh, her fingers running furiously through her hair. There was no point in lying. "Physically speaking, I could – and I certainly would – blow the life out off of him with how much I like him. And you know I don't particularly like giving head. He's a swimmer, for goodness sake! A swimmer, which means: broad shoulders and a strongly built chest, better known as my erotic dream since I discovered masturbation. Of course, I bloody like him."

Ginny hid a laugh behind the cup of her hand, smiling at Hermione's flushed cheeks. "Ok, so you want to blow him. Haven't you done it yet?"

"That's what you have to say?" Hermione asked, with a strangled and tense shriek.

Ginny ignored her question. "And what about his character, his personality, his mind?"

Hermione exhaled through her nostrils, in a very unladylike manner. Her head felt fuller that it had ever been.

"I don't know," she said, contemplating her thoughts. "It's early but, I don't know… I feel a connection. It's easy to talk with him. He challenges me. This morning we talked about books and art and films. He knows Flemish painters. Who the fuck knows Flemish painters?"

"Certainly not Harry," Ginny twitched her nose. "Let alone my dense brother."

At the mention of her best friend and ex-boyfriend, Hermione shook her head, resigned. She opened her mouth to say that she knew just how much Ron knew about Flemish painters, but the buzz of her phone hushed her. Feeling Ginny's searching look on her, she took the phone and read the message.

_**Guess what? I was walking home when I saw the library on the corner of my street. I found it and I brought it. I had a really a good night and an even more beautiful morning with you.**_

_**Have a good day, goldfinch x**_

Draco had also sent a selfie to prove his purchase. Sat in what she thought was his sofa, he had a big smile on his rosy lips and _The Goldfinch_ in his left hand. His hair was still a mess, but it was slightly dump, and his complexion was a little flushed – both things probably from the shower.

Without realizing it, she let out a dreamy sigh. "Fuck, he's gorgeous."

"Damn, we lost her," Ginny chuckled, but Hermione ignored her.

_I think I like you, Draco Malfoy _

_**The power of books…**_

_Hey! I'm serious!_

_**So am I**_

_I'm joking. I HATE you and your dick!_

_**THAT'S A LIE **_

_I've always been good at faking pleasure_

_**Not with me, goldfinch. Not with me **_

_…_

_What an idiot. _

_**I'd like to get to know you better. Really know you. And I'd like to take you out. Not a fancy date, just a walk around the city. But it's still a date, you know…**_

"Hermione?" Ginny asked, worried. "Are you ok? You look as pale as a vampire."

"Oh my God," Hermione said in a barely audible whisper, hands on her face and her phone forgotten on the table. "Oh. My. God!"

"What?!"

"He asked me on a date!"

"A date?"

"Not a date… date," Hermione clarified. "Though he said it is still a date."

"You know, you two are probably the weirdest people on heart," Ginny flashed her a grin. "First you flirt, then you fuck like rookie teenagers, and then you go on a date that's not really a date. And the most amazing part is the expression on your face."

_Yes, of course. Just a walk around the city. London's beautiful this time of the year xx_

_**What about tomorrow? I'll pick you up, if you want**_

_Yep! We could have lunch together, so why don't you come around midday?_

_**Can't wait x **_

_You're such a sappy idiot_

_**I AM NOT**_

_Yes, you are. Shut up, I'm right. _

_**Now it's my time to say that I HATE you and your eternally wet pussy**_

_That's a lie. And judging by the several times you fucked me and licked me and fingered me… you're a bad liar_

_**Change of plan: tomorrow I'm going to fuck you in my bed, hard and deep. **_

_**Ps: + bonus: a post- sex nice whole bowl of cereals (Cocoa Krispies, obviously)**_

"For fuck's sake, Hermione," Ginny said, as she stood up. "I'm done with you. That scowling prince has bewitched you with his sexual talents! You're scaring me. Your pleased face is way worse scarier than Pennywise."

As a response, Hermione lifted her middle finger as she typed something to Draco.

"I love you too, you little minx," Ginny laughed and reached the hallway, tossing her friend a knowing smile as she went.

_I sincerely hope so_

* * *

"Why are you always in my room?" Draco exclaimed the next day, holding tight the towel that was wrapped around his waist. "I leave you alone for ten minutes in my leaving room and, no matter what, you always find your way to my bloody bedroom."

Theo gave him a bored glance. "Because I love the light... and the smell of your spunk."

"For fuck's sake, Theo!" Draco threw the nearest pillow at him. "You're disgusting."

"You're a little too touchy for my taste, Malfoy," Theo said with a smirk as he got comfortable against the headboard of Draco's bed.

Draco opened his wardrobe and quickly opted for a pair of blue jeans and a white t-shirt. "I'll get over it."

"So," Theo sighed quite melodramatically. "You have a date?"

Draco grumbled as he dressed, then he glanced at his friend and motioned him to remove his lanky self from his bed. Once Theo was standing several feet from it, he made the bed for the second time that day.

"Dear Lord," he heard Theo saying. "What have you done to my favourite wanker?"

"I'm losing my patience, Nott," Draco said desperately, shoving him out of his bedroom. "Get the fuck out or ask me to let you move in with me, once and for all. This way you'll have a reason to always be around."

"Would you do that?" Theo asked, the light in his big blue eyes suddenly serious. "Letting me move in with you?"

Draco shrugged. "I know things with Daphne aren't going well."

"Yeah," Theo nodded, avoiding his friend's eyes.

"And I know that you need your time and space to think about your relationship with her," Draco continued, quieter and more relaxed than seconds before. "If you promise to behave, which means that you'll help me with housework and cooking, well, you can move in tomorrow."

"Not tonight?" Theo asked, rising his eyebrow maliciously.

"No way."

Theo looked at him knowingly and then sighed theatrically. "Pity."

"Get out, Theo," Draco gave him a playful shove. "I have places to be, people to see, and –"

"Got it! Got it!" Theo laughed. "Have fun with your girl, wanker!"

* * *

"Stay still," Hermione whispered, holding back a laugh, as the underground took a turn.

"I am no superhero, Granger," Draco said as he wrapped his arm around Hermione's waist. "And staying still isn't exactly the easiest thing to do in a moving Tube carriage with nothing to hold on to."

"I thought you were some kind of Captain England, or something," she pouted, holding her phone in front of them. She took a photo of their reflexes on the doors glasses, a blurred but colourful photo, and then showed it to him.

"Very artistic," he commented, bowing to give her head a gentle head butt. "Social material."

Hermione smiled, rubbing her forehead on his clavicle. "Do you mind if I posted it? Not because it's us, mind you. It's really artistic, just like my feed."

"Of course not," he replied quickly. "You should let the whole world know you're hanging out with Draco Malfoy."

Bringing a hand up to her chest feigning shock, she said: "The Crown Prince of England?"

He leaned down to peck her on the lips and then winked. "The one and only, dearest."

"I knew you were special," she muttered as she signed in on Instagram. She edited the pic rapidly and then raised her eyebrows, hesitant. Writing the caption was always the hardest part, but one look at Draco's outfit and the perfect lyrics came to her mind.

"I'm one of a kind, thank you very much," he said, moments later, glancing at the map above the occupied seats. The next station was Green Park. "What do you want to do now?"

Hermione lifted her head and took a look at the map. They had lunch at a welcoming pub near Shakespeare's Globe and then they had walked along the Thames, talking about everything and nothing, till they had reached Westminster station. She checked the hour on her phone – 15.47 – and bit her lower lip in thought.

"I'd like to see a movie," she said, fingers playing with the hem of Draco's white t-shirt.

He silently watched the way she was worrying her lip, and observed the freckles on the bridge of her nose and the way her wavy – though he suspected her natural hair was curlier – hair brushed her clavicles every time the Tube took a turn.

"Would you prefer to go to a movie or see it while you're comfortably sat on my sofa?" he asked with a laugh, lifting a finger to play with her hair.

"Or mine?"

"No way," he shook his head vehemently, and his horrified expression made her laugh. "I won't survive another loud and embarrassing mating kindly offered by your friends."

"Hey," she scolded him. "They're my friends!"

"C'mon, goldfinch," he said, taking her hand. "Next stop is ours."

At that Hermione let out a small shriek. "You live in Kensington? How fucking wealthy are you?"

* * *

"Ok, you're not rich," Hermione pointed a finger at him from her spot on the big l-shaped sofa. "You really are the Crown Prince of England!"

Draco was on the refined wooden floor, sitting cross-legged in front of an enormous white bookcase full of books, encyclopaedias, medical tomes and succulents of various sizes, with his hands busy searching for the perfect film, since she had decided to let him pick.

"Mother is a cardiologist, as were my grandparents," he replied casually, turning his head to look at her. "And father's a member of the Government."

Hermione pursed her lips in thought and quickly connected the dots in her head.

"Lucius Malfoy is your father?" she exclaimed, raising her left eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Are you a conservative?"

He ignored her accusatory tone and shrugged, standing up with a DVD in his right hand. He sat next to her and said, "Both the Blacks and the Malfoys have been members of the Conservative Party for generations."

"Oh God," Hermione closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. "I'm fucking a conservative."

"I'm not a serial killer or a criminal, you know?" Draco said, a little upset by her statement. "Because that's what your tone seems to imply."

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, but something in her eyes told him he had let her down. "Sometimes I get too carried away with these things," she reassured him, rising a hand to stroke the blond hair that fell on his forehead. "You know: politics, civil and human rights, women's rights…"

He nodded and gave her a gentle head butt, which stole her a soft laugh that he wasted no time turning into a fiery, long kiss made of provocative, almost non-existent bites on the lips and warm licks and silenced moans.

"Time out. Time out," she breathed deeply as his lips brushed her sensitive neck. "I really want to see whatever film you picked and to finish our conversation."

Draco nipped her jaw in response, and then he took her face in his hands.

"Really?" he asked incredulously, hair messed up probably by her own hands, and lips swollen.

"We can't just fuck, you know?" she said, tugging at his belt loops.

"Why can't we fuck and talk?" Draco pouted a breath away from her mouth. "Talk while fucking? Fuck while talking?"

She rolled her eyes. "It doesn't work that way with me."

He snorted stubbornly and inhaled loudly. "Yes, Granger, I'm a conservative but I didn't vote for Brexit."

"That's almost sexy," she chuckled, fingers caressing his face in circles. "Almost, mind you."

"Okay, I get it," Draco rolled his eyes, pocking her side. "I chose a classic," he nodded, a small smirk playing at his lips, and showed her the DVD cover.

"Are you serious?" Hermione shook her head, crossing her arms. She tried to keep a straight face but the excited, happy expression on Draco's visage only made her chuckle. "_Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_?"

"I told you this was my favourite film," he laughed, exposing his straight and perfect white-teeth. "Don't you like Johnny Depp?"

Hermione clicked her tongue. "He's not exactly my type. I prefer men like Charlie Hunnam, Garrett Hedlund, and the actor who played Roger Taylor in Bohemian Rhapsody."

His smile only grew bigger. "So, you like blonds?"

"I don't like _blonds_. I also like Jude Law."

"Blond."

"He's not blond!" Hermione said, turning as if he'd insulted her. "He has light brown hair."

"He's sandy blond."

"He's not!"

"He is."

"Are we seriously arguing about Jude Law's hair colour?"

"I like pissing you off," Draco said, ruffling her hair.

Hermione grumbled and took the DVD from his hands. She stood up and went to switch on the DVD player.

"_Charlie and the Chocolate Factory_ for the annoying Cocoa Krispies obsessed," she said, playfully making fun of him.

"Thank you for the reminder!" Draco exclaimed, hurrying to the kitchen.

When he came back, he was carrying a tray with a bottle of milk, two bowls and a glass container full of Cocoa Krispies in his hands.

"That's so cute," Hermione said, when he heard him, pointing at the bowl with little Simba painted on it.

Draco blushed, but didn't say anything. He put the tray on the table, sat next to her, and poured some cereals in both bowls, which were already filled with milk.

"Thank you," Hermione smiled gratefully at him when he gave her the bowl.

He shrugged as he stirred the cereals. "A nice, whole bowl of Cocoa Krispies. That's what you wanted yesterday, isn't it?"

She grumbled as she lifted a spoonful of milk soaked Cocoa Krispies, putting the movie on. "Something like that."

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, lips parting into an amused grin.

"C'mon, Granger," he said, looking extremely happy and – _damn_, she screamed in her head rather loudly – beautiful with his joyful eyes and laughter lines. "They are the best. You can't seriously despise them."

"Of course, I can," she stuck her tongue out, but then she ate a spoonful of cereals. "Ew… It's like chewing styrofoam."

"Drama queen," Draco shook his head, laughing. "Watch the film. I'll question you later."

Hermione made a face. "I read the book a thousand times, Draco, and watched the film twice."

"Twice?!" Draco asked, looking sincerely shocked. "Only twice? You're a shameful human being, Hermione Granger."

She gave him a little shove and put her index on his parted lips, mouthing _shut up_.

"It was a gift from my Uncle Ted, my bowl" he said several minutes later, in a soft, full of tenderness, breath, before taking another spoonful of cereals.

The voices of the film characters continued to fill the quiet of Draco's living room, but something in his honest tone made her forget all about the film. She turned her head and looked at him, trying to find something – a worried line on his face, a tremor in his lips, a different light in his stormy grey eyes – that would tell her more. Because, she was certain, there was more behind his words.

"It's a beautiful bowl, Draco," she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

He didn't reply. He only moved his head a little so he could kiss her temple.

And that… that was enough.

* * *

_**an:** I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I must confess that writing this chapter has been hard, because of a small writer's block and the difficult challenge of writing in a language that isn't mine. I always get mixed up with the tenses…_

_I want to thank all the people who followed and favorited my story. But I'm here to say a massive THANK YOU to Iridescent77, CocoaMoon and lexy0199 for the kind (and helpful) reviews. Thank you. Thank you so much._

_Big hugs and have a good day!_

_franmunier_


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